Phillipsburg herald. [volume] (Phillipsburg, Kan.) 1882-1905, 1887-02-12

ana 10 q u6aQ moral clEEaluly was CDLA-
ing our way. 7 gathered myself tOgeth-
CT for a shot. For perhaps ten minutes
the dog was apparently running directly
toward my crossing, but nearly opposite
both Franks stand and my own. All at
once, bangI goes Franks gun down the
creek, and it was certain I had lost my
chance Cor this morning. Running up
TO higher ground I listened intently to
Determine if Custer stopped baying
when he reached the point the shot was
fred, Or continued right on. Sure
enough the baying ceased. That settled
1.-THE deer was dead. 1 rushed on
down the creek as fast as possible
through the cedar brush, and found
Frank dressing out his deer across two
old stranded pine saw logs-a large doe.
She had jumped into the creek within
five rods Of him and he had tumbled
her over with a single pill. And great
was his pride. Frank had shrewdIy
guessed if the dog started the same deer,
having met with such easy success IN
eluding Custer the day before, it would
take the same course and try to repeat
the tricz,-of lodging the dog by run
In the creek. And so it turned out.
A few days afterwards Lutte killed
/ fawn within a few rods Of this same spot,
also ahead Of the dog. Then there was
/ an interregnum Of ten days, when L got
my first venison, but little good It did
Ms as ] will relate. The dog had start
/ ed deer about noon one day. and we
were all ''spreRd out" at eligible places
along the creek, three miles below camp.
/ The hound had long been out OF hear
/ ing. 1 sat for three hours, waiting,
with not a sound to disturb the solitude
except the ripping Of the waters over
the rocky bottom OF the shallow creek.
After awhile L got up aud started back
/ into the woods on an old runway, on a
still hunt. 1 did not hear the dog, but
/ had hardly gone ten rods, when down
stream heard the craunchl craunch, and
/ grind made by a deer's hOofs running
on the stones and gravel In the creek
channel. They sometimes run like mad
up or down a creek for a mile, to throw
| the dog of the scent, IN which act they
are almost invariably successful. In
! deeper waters they swim down stream.
1 stopped down and instantly ran back
| TO where I had view down the creek,
and sure enough, thirty rods below,
there was a good sized doe running up
toward me in an easy lope. 1 pOked out
/ the old Winchester, and waited for her
! to come on.
! 1t was all so sudden and unexpected
| ike that was a little nerVous,-had
touch of the buck fever perhaps. When
she was about quartering below from mo
and not twenty-five yards of pulled
away and-missed her deadl. She
wheeled toward the opposite bank, di-
rectly away from me and sent another
| pill after her, then another, and as she
rose to the low bank saw her stagger.
Before could get my gun OF again
| she rolled over in the brush and grass,
dead venison. Giving the boys the
death yell, went over and examined
the game. Only one bullet had taken
effect, and that exactly under the tail,
ranging clean forward into the vitals.
The boys soon came putting up, and we
proceeded to skin out the deer, hanging
up the saddles on a low cedar branch,
| expecting to carry them into camp that
night, but the dog soon drew US OFF in
another direction and they were event
ually left hanging there. The next day
Lutte and Edward went down to gather
the game, and Pm a saint if the wolves
/ hadn't pulled it down and deVoured the
saddles, foreshOulders, hide and all; not
a bone was even visible. The bows were
pretty mad about it. II was the only in
cident during the fall IN which wolves
took hand with US IN the hunt, and this
once they clearly had the better Of the
party.
About this time a band of Menomonee
Indians went into camp on the creek two
or three miles above. There were two
bucks, two squaws and a half dozen pa
pOOses, and they all housed in one wig
wam, letting their ponies-fOur or five
run loose in the woods. They were
from the reservation forty miles below,
and were still camped there when we
left in December. One Of the bucks
used a 44-Winchester and the other an
old antediluvian squirrel rife. Both
were industrious hunters, and fairly sue
cessful; we often met them in the woods
still hunting deer. One day the boys
scattered along the creek above this In
dian camp, on the lookout for deer,
while took to the back ridges with the
hound. After walking a mile toward
the north, the dog began to ''work' a
fresh track, and soon jumped the deer
out OF cedar thieket. I had followed
the dog as closely as possible, but the
deer was up and OF without my getting
a shot at him.
The man with the dog stands as good
a show as anybody, for as he works
around through the thiekets and woods,
sometimes ahead, often behind, on the
right and then on the left Of the hunter.
the hound is very liable to lump a deer
and point him your way or within shoot
ing distance. On this occasion I was
not so favored. The dog ran the deer
up and down the ridges for half an hour
and then went out of hearing. 1 bent
my way down toward the boys on the
creek. Presently my dog came back to
me, having lost the track. A minute
afterward a single shot was fired down
the creek, but the boys disclaimad the
shot when got to them. We concluded
to Cross the creek and beat up an old
pine slashing, three miles back. As We
were pursuing our way in Indian file
through a swamp, the dog started an
other deer and ran him to the left and
ahead of us. We hurried forward as fast
as possible, the dog in hearing the while,
the wind blowing toward us from the
north a heavy gale. was ahead and
Lutte brought mp the rear. Once as the
breeze freshened up it seemed as If the
dog was coming our way, and Ed and I
stopped and cooked our guns; then the
wind lulled, and the baying appeared
further on, but In plain hearing. We
trudged on, listening and watching. All
at once Lutte rushed up from the rear